


freeballin' it

by bishounen_curious



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Alcohol, Bisexuality, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Party, bo's got a big gay crush on his bff, lets see what happens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: Everything was going according to plan...Well, Bo, you need to have a plan first before you can even say that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skinnedkneedmisfit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinnedkneedmisfit/gifts).



> this was a commission for skinnedkneedmisfit ! thanks buddy for the fun prompt! sorry it took a billion years to complete! your patience and kindness was really really important <3

It was the same old routine. A shotgunned beer here, an unfunny joke there, a lot of unnecessary touching that nobody could really keep track of. Bokuto was very familiar with this type of Friday night. If anything, it was almost a _normal_ Friday for him.

But it didn’t mean he was happy about it.

Inherently, it wasn’t a bad time. Getting wasted with his friends in his basement was always a plus in his book. He liked the silliness, inhibitions taking a back seat, the screaming about volleyball in a passionately-inebriated manner. It was fun; it really was. The company was great, the activities greater. 

Everything would’ve been just dandy if Kuroo wasn’t there.

Why the hell did he invite him again?

He was in the corner, mid-shot with Taketora. Throwing it back, his eyes narrowed in that gloating asshole way of his, not because he was particularly gloating about anything (though that kid could do the cleanest, easiest shot Bo had ever witnessed), it was just the way his face looked. Resting smug douche face. That was Kuroo to a tee. And all he was doing that was getting under Bo’s skin was just being _there_ , the sweat dripping down his neck, staining the underarms of his thin cotton t-shirt from the poor ventilation in Bo’s basement that was magnified by the humidity from all of these mouth breathers sharing the same space for hours. Kuroo was simply being Kuroo, and Bokuto had to keep his eyes away from him.

For a lot of reasons. 

Handling this was a piece of cake when Bo was sober. But drunk? Forget about it. If Akaashi hadn’t been there, with his parental hawk vision keeping Bokuto out of deeper waters, who knows what would’ve happened to him? A fight? A ruined friendship? All because of something that Bokuto had been desperately wanting for some time.

Wanted, but knew he couldn’t have.

His gaze pathetically slipped back to Kuroo in the corner. He was just watching him — how the jerk had slung an arm around Taketora’s shoulder, laughing at how poorly the younger handled the Fireball, not caring how red-faced and teary-eyed he was. Bo couldn’t exactly hear what Kuroo was saying to him, but he was imagining himself in Take’s place, having those douchey, yet compassionate words huffed into his ear, feel Kuroo’s body heat bleed into his side, smell the whiskey on his breath… Maybe _taste_ it…

_Dude, c’mon._

“Hey.” 

Bokuto balked when Akaashi snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Bokuto, don’t look at him. It’s only going to make you feel worse.”

“Dude — I’m doing my best.”

“No,” Akaashi sighed. “You’re not. You shouldn’t have invited him.”

“He would’ve found out about the party! I can’t just not invite him, Akaashi…”

“Yeah, you can.” Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“No!” Bokuto clung to Akaashi like a wet sheet, in an awkward embrace that the setter wasn’t too thrilled to be in. “I’m really doing my best here.”

Akaashi just blinked, nonplussed. “No, you’re not. You’ve been staring at him since he got here.”

“I can’t help it.” Bokuto whined. “I just want him so much.”

Akaashi kept his mouth shut then. Compassion tinted in his eyes, and he sighed, placing a comforting hand on the captain’s shoulder and squeezed. As much as he wished some magical, insightful words could flow out of the setter’s mouth and fix all his problems, Bokuto wasn’t that delusional. The situation sucked. Major dick. Kuroo wasn’t into him, as far as Bokuto was aware. He never reacted to the more-than-just-friendly touches, or ever seemed keen to discuss openly any romantic or sexual thoughts. Kuroo was his bro, yeah, but didn’t appear too excited to partake in any sort of bromance.

And plus, he only ever flirted with girls anyway. Most likely straight as a board. Bo wished his dumb, bisexual ass wasn’t so fucking gay for his best friend. Why’d his heart even have to put him through all this? It was pure torture.

Well, at least he could trust himself to keep his shit together enough not to ruin their friendship.

Or.

Y’know what? _Fuck that_.

Something must have changed in his eyes, because suddenly Akaashi was on full alert. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” Bo said simply, nonchalantly, so unlike his usual cadence and delivery that Akaashi immediately grabbed him by the shoulders, held him captive against the wall and said with frightening finality, “ _no_.”

“Akaashi, c’mon —“

“You’ve got a stupid idea, I know it. Just forget it and stay here.”

Bokuto whined. “Please.”

“No —“

“ _Please_.” Bo was a little startled by how much his pathetic, tipsy voice made Akaashi pause. “Just let me try. I have to.”

There was a beat, a painful one by the way Akaashi’s mouth scrunched up, before he deflatedly let him free. “Ok.” 

“If I don’t try, I’m gonna _die_.”

Akaashi tsked. “Don’t be so overdramatic.”

Bokuto leaned forward, planted an obnoxious kiss onto the crown of Akaashi’s head and was then promptly shoved away. Sure, Bo was drunk, but he was cognizant enough to see the smile threatening to appear on the setter’s mouth.

Alright, it’s go time. Operation Get Kuroo to Want to Kiss Me™ is now online. 

Weaving through the labyrinthine cluster of partygoers was only a little bit difficult. He only knocked into one person hard enough that they spilt their drink. It was some Fukurodani rando (how the hell did he even hear about the party? which fuck from his team let a non-sport boy into his house?) so of course, Bo didn’t even think to apologize. The only thing he thought to do was throw himself over to where Kuroo and Take were chilling. 

“Yo!” Bokuto yelled, raising his hand up for a high-five.

Kuroo only snorted and left him hanging, still with his arm slung around his kouhai. Ouch. “You look wonderfully fucked up right now, Bo.”

“You bet I am.” Bo grinned, trying not to look too hurt from not getting the high-five returned. It was hard not to take it personally, though. But, now wasn’t the time for hurt feelings. Onto business. “Let’s do shots. Immediately.”

Taketora blanched. “No way.”

“Nah, c’mon!” Bokuto smirked, snatching up the half-empty bottle of Fireball and caressed it like a newborn baby. “It’ll be fun~”

“We just did one.” Taketora puffed out his chest, using that annoying bravado of his to mask his totally obvious discomfort. “Me and captain just did like three in a row—“

“Yikes, what a fucking liar.” Kuroo snickered and ruffled up the younger’s meticulously-styled mohawk. “We just did one. What’re you, a show off or just a baby?”

“Cap’n, why you gotta do me like that…?”

“Why’d you gotta do _me_ like that?” Kuroo countered, and thank god, released him from his hold. “Yeah, Bo, let’s fucking go.”

Taketora flushed harder than from his coughing fit and just grumbled off, leaving the two captains alone with a cheap bottle of cinnamon whiskey.

Score.

Kuroo snagged two empty shot glasses from the table and poured them both a double. All according to Bokuto’s plan…

Well, _hold up_. Maybe not exactly. There needed to be a plan in order for it to be followed, and well, Bo was kinda just freeballing it. Get drunk with your best friend turned crush, and things should work out, yeah? What could go wrong? There was no reason this half-plan would fail.

Together, they threw back the shot and whooped. Bokuto only had a few tears in his eyes from the burn, and of course, Kuroo looked absolutely flawless. 

“Another?” Kuroo grinned, nudging Bokuto’s shoulder with his own.

“Hell yeah.”

“Excellent.” Kuroo patted him lovingly, sarcastically on the head. “I wanted to get obliterated tonight, anyway.”

“Right on, bro.” Bokuto smirked.

“Right on.”

They took two more double shots, and Bo had to admit, his stomach did not feel so great. It felt full and hot, and things were definitely more woozy than five minutes ago. That shit was hitting him quick. Even though he couldn’t see Akaashi, Bo felt his disdainful, worried gaze burrowing deep into his soul. 

And for Kuroo. He didn’t exactly look messed up, but he knew his best friend well enough to know he was nowhere near sober. His posture was less tall, eyes less narrowed, and his smile was a few degrees less douchey. He also was more touchy-fighty when he was drunk, but that was nothing new. Kuroo liked to affectionately punch people in the arm when he was blitzed. Bokuto was going to take what he could get in the physicality department, even if it was just a well-aimed, light punch in the ribs.

“Hey.” Those spindly, calloused fingers switched from punches to gentle pokes as time drifted on in the loud, dim basement full of more strangers than friends. “Come with me.”

Bokuto’s stomach began fluttering (and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t because he was about to vomit). “Where?”

“Just come.” Kuroo slurred, his face suddenly looking so boyish. It was weird — it didn’t have all those edges, those fine lines — everything looked soft. Like someone Bokuto could really, really fall in love with.

Not that he wasn’t whipped already, but _goddamn_.

Blindly, uncoordinatedly, they maneuvered through the party and managed to climb out of the basement and find the front door. A burst of warm, humid air from outside felt a little gross on their already sweaty, flustered skin, but neither of them paid any mind to it.

Kuroo took Bo to the lawn. Kuroo just plopped himself down on the grass, flopped backwards, and spread himself out like a corpse. It looked so fucking ridiculous, and Bokuto dropped down besides the brunet in a fit of inebriated giggles. Kuroo chuckled a few times, too, and it wasn’t for a few moments before either of them were silent, just staring upward at the smoggy, midnight Tokyo sky.

“There’s like three stars.” Bokuto snickered, and let himself poke Kuroo’s ribs through his sweaty tee. “S’pretty.”

“Shut up.” Kuroo grumbled, covering his eyes in an attempt to hide his smile. “Not why we’re out here, dipshit.”

More fluttering. Less nausea. “I just…” Kuroo trailed off.

“Yeah, dude?”

“Dunno.” He sighed and turned his head so he could look at Bo head on. “I feel weird, is all.”

“What kinda weird?”

Kuroo made a gargling sound and knocked his knees around for a moment. “Like confused weird.”

Bokuto let himself roll a bit closer to Kuroo, unabashedly taking chances he wouldn’t sober. “Talk to me.”

“S’dumb.” Kuroo averted his eyes, clicking his tongue. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I tell you my secrets!”

Sure, this wasn’t the best way to get someone to trust you, but Bo was beyond logical, sensitive methodology at this point. It was in his brain that this tableau here on the lawn was a confession. A declaration. A secret that Kuroo was so sure it would be met with rejection, when in reality it would be met with nothing but pure, unconditional acceptance. Bokuto was ready to hear those three words, he’d been born ready. _I like you_. And it was taking all of his strength not to lean over and kiss this jerk right on the mouth. Instead, he tried to recover himself and entreat him. “You can tell me yours.”

Silence enveloped both of them, nothing but scattered cicada chirps, distance honks and sirens rumbling like gentle electricity through the summer night air. Bo stressfully tore at the grass, breaking off blades and crumpling them up in his palm. Kuroo kept opening his mouth and shutting it, cutting himself off from speaking whatever it was that he so desperately wanted to say.

“Kuroo.”

“I know.” He made a soft grunt through his nose. “It’s just hard.”

“Just tell me.” Bo mumbled softly, affectionately. “I won’t judge.”

Air filled Kuroo’s lungs, and he let it whistle out of his mouth in a deliberate way. “I… know. It’s just really hard to say aloud.”

Bokuto swallowed. “Yeah, I bet. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to, though.”

Kuroo grunted again. “No. But I _do_. You’re my best friend. You deserve to know.”

_Oh god, oh god oh god._

“Bo, I —“

Something in him snapped. He just scooted across the dewey grass and planted his lips on Kuroo’s quivery ones. They didn’t exactly taste like whiskey, but more like chapstick and barbecue potato chips. Kuroo hadn’t shut his mouth, he’d been mid-speaking, and his entire body froze, like a trapped animal, letting whatever the fuck was happening _happen_. Bo’s sloggy brain was telling him he should pull away, but the liquor was making him feel less terrible about feeling selfish, so he let the kiss linger for a few seconds longer than it should.

When he pulled away, Kuroo was just… scared. Bug-eyed, and small. No hard edges, nothing but softness but this time it wasn’t something that Bokuto could fall in love with.

It was something that made him feel guilty.

“I’m sorry—“

Kuroo swallowed. “Um.”

Bokuto bolted upward. “I don’t know why I did that —“

Kuroo just watched him, pale. “I don’t —“

“I’m so sorry.” Bokuto spat. The alcohol wasn’t making him feel good anymore. His veins felt heavy, clumsy, his stomach doing flip-flops that were worse than nausea. This is what Akaashi was trying to prevent from happening. He was smart, why didn’t Bo listen to him? Why did he have to act? Why did he let himself make the worst decision of his life —?

“Hey.” 

At some point, Kuroo must’ve sat up top, because those dark eyes of his were close to Bokuto’s. He could smell the sweat, the whiskey, could see the tautness of the tendons in the other’s neck. Bo almost cringed and balked back at the closeness. He didn’t know how to read the look on his face. An awkward smile, trying to mask disgust, maybe? Pity? Just a default uncomfortable look? His hand was balled into a fist on his knee, and Bo had to admit that he’d never seen his friend look so out of his element before. “Bo, listen —“

“I know you hate me.” Bokuto blurted as his throat tightened and burned, feeling his emotions well up so high they were on the brink of pouring out. “It’s okay, I get it.”

“Hey!” Kuroo tensed, and that strange smile wiped off his face and was replaced by something more familiar. “I don’t hate you.”

“But I —“

Kuroo touched Bo’s shoulder, silencing him. “Can I speak?”

Bo just nodded guiltily. 

Another big breath in, another slow exhale out, and Kuroo braced himself to speak. “I don’t know what _that_ was, but… I was going to tell you something. About me.” He went quiet again, and Bo felt his heartbeat lodge in his throat. It took Kuroo a moment before he could continue. “About me thinking I like… well, guys.”

What?

“I just — it’s so dumb. I don’t know why this is so fucking hard.” An empty laugh ripped from Kuroo’s mouth. “I know it’s nothing bad but — look, I know you’re bi. And I wanted to talk to you about it. Because… I think I might be, too.”

Oh shit. That’s what this was? Bo felt like garbage. Like actual, non recyclable, nasty garbage.

Kuroo was still talking though. “ — and I wanted to just talk about it. About things. And well, then _this_ happened.” Bokuto felt his skin ignite.

“And,” Kuroo said, a lilt of something playful in his tone, “I want to… think about it a little bit.”

Something in Bokuto gave way to hope. Just a little bit. Maybe that was a bad idea, to be hopeful over something unlikely to happen, but Bokuto Koutaro was never good at keeping himself guarded. 

Kuroo snorted at Bo’s lack of response. “I can think about it, right? About what it all, y’know, means? And talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, totally.” Every word coming out of his mouth felt garbled and fuzzy, but somehow he made coherent sense. “That’s cool. Yeah”

Kuroo smiled. “Thanks.”

“Mn.”

Only cicadas and awkward smiles pervaded them. The two of them flopped back down onto the grass, and looked deliriously up at the blank sky. Bokuto did his best not to keep stealing glances at the captain, but he couldn’t help himself. 

It seemed like forever until Kuroo broke the silence. “Wait… do you like me?”

Oh no. Bokuto rolled his face away, trying to hide his definitely humiliated expression. “I thought you said we’d talk tomorrow?”

Kuroo just laughed. “Fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> commission me or talk to me about pining boys
> 
> bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


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